Reset: A Multitude of Errors
by Dclnsfrd
Summary: Frisk doesn't have the power of reset. And the one who does likes to make really bad jokes.
1. What Could Possibly Go Wrpng?

Long ago, two races ruled over Earth: HUMANS and ROCKSTARS-

 ***reset***

Long ago, two races ruled over Earth: APPLE and PC-

 ***reset***

Long ago, two races ruled over Earth: Humans and Monsters…..

* * *

Reset: A Multitude of Errors

By Dclnsfrd

Inspired by the play "Sure Thing" by David Ives

* * *

Frisk was walking on Mount Ebbot one day. No one was sure why, not even the Narrator. But suddenly, they tripped and fell into a hole, screaming "THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID!"-

 ***reset***

But suddenly, they tripped and fell **down** a hole, screaming, "YIPPIE KI-YAY, MOTHER-"

 ** _*RESET!*_**

But suddenly, they tripped and fell down a hole, screaming, "YOU NEVER LET ME DO ANYTHING FUN!"

They landed with a splat….?

 ***reset***

They landed with a _crunch?!_

 ***reset***

They landed with a thud, cushioned by a patch of lovely, harmless, golden flowers.

"Shows what you know," Frisk muttered.

Quiet, you.

They stepped forward carefully as their eyes adjusted to the lower light. Walking forward, the numerous flowers seemed to stop suddenly, leaving another flower to stand alone. Frisk wasn't sure why this seemingly identical flower was not growing with the others. Before they could proceed further, they jumped as a voice seemed to speak to them from no visible source. It was a charming voice, yet almost eerie against the darkness.

"Wanna buy some drugs," it asked.

"Sure," said Fris-

 ***reset***

"Wanna see a dead body," it asked.

"No, but I can show you some in a few minutes."

PACIFIST RUN, FRISK!

 ** _*RE-FRIGGIN-SET!*_**

"Howdy! I'm Flowey! Flowey the Flower! But enough with the formalities," the flower chuckled as white pellets began to float in a circle around Frisk, its face transforming into a nightmare that got caught in a garbage disposal, "let's just skip to the part where I kill you."

The human child's eyes went wide as death slowly encircled them, their feet walking around boxes of text that they won't notice for a few chapters. They began to mutter ridiculous accusations and curses against a certain gorgeous, totally competent narrator.

As Frisk could almost feel the points of the bullet-like objects scratching their skin, a ball of flame began to float to the left of the wacked-out weed. This surprised the both of them, causing the ring of projectiles to halt. The fireball bounced to the ground and back up again, launching the deranged dandelion further into the darkness and causing the threat against Frisk's life to disappear before their eyes.

"Okay, maybe you're not always a psycho," they said, dusting off their sweater. (Uh, thanks?) "But that flower looked surprised by the flying fireball," they rested their face on their palm, "and I can't believe that sentence ever needed to be said. So if that flame wasn't from that whatever-it-was, then who?"

"Oh," said a female voice, stepping forward to show herself as being a creature more cuddly than a human and less of a quadruped than a goat. "I just missed is all. Let me try again."

WHY, GOAT-MOM?!

 ***reset***

"My name is Toriel," said the mysterious rescuer. "I don't know why such a young human would be all alone here, but I couldn't stand by and let you die! We shall go to my house. There's food enough for the both of us, and room for you to sleep. Come," she said, reaching out her furry hand, "let's go."

"Uh, the name's Frisk, not 'Come.'" Oh shut your face and all that is attached to it. "But I like the idea of food." They placed their hand in the hand of their fluffy protector, feeling like nothing could touch them as long as she was by their side. "Can anyone tell us what 'foreshadowing' is," Frisk sarcastically whispered.

Yes, the two of them walked toward Toriel's home further into the caves to begin a new life together.

For real.

Yep.

Totally.


	2. Practice Makes Perfect

**Author's Note: Wow! I was blown away by the positive feedback for Reset! I hope you folks enjoy this chapter, and please take a minute to leave a review! (^.^) Thanks!**

* * *

"That's one way to do it," Toriel muttered as the practice dummy floated away. But she couldn't blame it: that child's stare was enough to make anyone or anything bored. "We can choose what we will do-"

"Some of us can, anyway," Frisk muttered.

"-but we monsters believe that violence isn't the only option. That's why I want you to practice a bit how to resolve conflict non-violently. Oh, dear."

Frisk felt something like a small jolt and looked up to see a cube with an exclamation mark. Suddenly, the room went dark, with Toriel nowhere to be seen. But what stood in front of them wasn't a murderous marigold or a practice dummy. It was…

"A frog," Frisk said.

"Ribbit-ribbit, mother-frogger," it cried out, staring with wide eyes. White flying objects appeared, both like and unlike flies. Frisk jumped around, able to dodge every one of them. With all their attention focused on dodging the attacks, they didn't pay attention to the "talk" box they activated. Because that detail definitely wasn't added to the narrative retroactively. Not at all.

"Nice moves, fly boy," Frisk said. The frog-like monster blushed, but their eyes widened further when Toriel came into view, staring it down. It hopped away, making sounds of various cryptozoological animals, such as cats.

"Good work," she said as the room returned to normal. "But monsters like this froggit aren't the only ones you may encounter. We also have puzzles which must be navigated carefully."

"So everything's trying to kill me," Frisk asked.

"No," Toriel said, shaking her head and emphasizing her answer by waving her hands in front of her. "It's just that here, there are various puzzles-"

"Traps."

"-that we must solve-"

"If you want to avoid death."

"-BECAUSE THAT'S JUST HOW IT'S DONE!"

There was a pause as both of them were surprised at her reaction. She sighed and added, "What else were we supposed to do when the humans cornered us in these caves and almost eliminated our species?"

"I, I'm sorry." Frisk grit their teeth and whispered, "This is supposed to be a comedy. Stop playing in the angst bucket!"

Just then, they tripped and soared through the air towards a bridge comprised entirely of spikes.

"Oh no," they called out half-heartedly, "am I about to become a Frisk-kabob?"

 ***I guess I should reset, huh?***

"I'm sorry," Frisk said. "Would you please teach me how to solve puzzles?"

Toriel's face lit up.

"Of course," she exclaimed, clapping her hands. "The puzzles can look different, but if you're observant, you can figure them out! Now take my hand, and I'll lead you through one of the practice puzzles."

Frisk smiled, enjoying her excitement. Until they got to the bridge covered with spikes. Then they felt they would have enjoyed being somewhere else. But looking at Toriel's fluffy face and not-so-fluffy eyes gave them the courage to grip her hand more tightly as she led them ahead. Instead of walking straight down the middle as most would do on a path, she often made twists and turns. The spikes withdrew into the bridge the moment before she touched them, only to jump back out with a thud the moment Frisk lifted their foot from the area. When they reached the other side of the bridge, Frisk was frantically looking for a bathroom.

"It's okay," Toriel said calmly.

"And you walk over those metal spikes every day," Frisk asked.

"Metal?" She went back to the bridge, leaned over, and pressed her fingers against one of the spikes.

It made a squeaking sound.

"I said it was a practice puzzle," she said, walking back to Frisk.

As she went ahead, they looked up and began to whisper a myriad of things which they should stop saying if they knew what was good for them.

The two came to a long hallway and stopped. She turned to face them, taking both of their hands in hers, and gave an assuring squeeze.

"Now," said Toriel, "I'm going to have to ask you to do something difficult."

"What is it," asked Frisk.

"My taxes."

 ***reset***

"What is it?"

"You can handle an assault rifle, right?"

 ***okay…? Reset***

"What is it?"

"Stay here and count to twenty. Then, walk to the other end of the next room."

"Does this one have real metal spikes," Frisk asked. They became nervous as Toriel didn't preface it as being a practice puzzle.

"No."

"Are there evil killers waiting to attack me?"

"No, it's actually a practically empty room with nothing that will scare you or impede your progress. Good luck!"

Frisk stared as Toriel briskly walked to the other side of the room and tried to hide behind a pillar. The pillar only came up to her midsection and was being used as a pedestal for a small fern.

"Once you have finished counting," Toriel said, straining as she tried to curl up on the floor, "go forth and brave this unterrifying room!"

"One, two, skip a few, twenty." Frisk walked through the room, trying not to laugh outwardly as Toriel covered her face with her hands.

"Who's Toriel," she kept whispering, "I'm just a pillar. That hot Toriel chick is somewhere that's not here!"

When Frisk finished walking by the pillar, Toriel jumped up, almost knocking the fern over. She walked over, smiling at her brave adventurer.

"I did it. Somehow."

"I knew you could," she said, beaming. She handed them a light-purple cellphone and added, "I have to do something right now, so stay here. I'll call you when I'm on my way back."

Frisk turned on the phone and saw the photo used as the wallpaper. Their hands began to tremble and they stammered out a question.

"Why is that skeleton wearing a-"

"Oh," she said with a blush as she grabbed the phone, "I accidentally gave you mine."

 ***reset***

Frisk turned on the phone and saw the photo used as the wallpaper. They laughed nervously, pointing at the picture and looking at Toriel.

"When did you grow a beard? And why are you wearing-"

"Uh," she said with a blush as she grabbed the phone, "That's my phone, but that's not me."

 ***reset***

"What cute little creatures," Frisk said, staring at the cellphone's temmie-filled wallpaper in an attempt to cleanse both their eyes and soul.

"Oh, sorry," she said, grabbing the phone. "That's mine. Here's the spare one."

Frisk turned on the phone to see an image of a smiling yellow face as the wallpaper. First order of business would have to be to change that image.

"I'll call you as soon as I can," Toriel called out as she turned a corner and left.


	3. A Dish Best Served Cold

**Author's Note: Oh crap! (Also, I just now saw that this site won't even let me mention their own site address.)**

* * *

Frisk made short work of finding the settings on the phone to change the wallpaper from that face. It looked a little too much like someone they had recently met. They decided that Toriel's choice of a crowd of temmies would do well enough until they could find a more interesting picture.

"I wonder if I can check my email on here," they muttered, opening up the Internet program. They furrowed their brow at one of the ads that came up.

"What's this," they asked, looking at a fan fiction site with plenty of blue, white and tan coloring.

Oh, crap!

"Oh, people write stories about things here, do they?"

NO THEY DON'T! IT'S ABOUT ELECTRIC AND HANDHELD FANS!

"Wait… What's my name doing on here?"

STOPITSTOPITSTOPITSTOPIT

"I don't know who those other people are, but I feel kind of dirty reading some of this."

YES! IT'S ALL THE EXACT SAME! SO YOU'LL FEEL GREAT IF YOU SHUT THAT WINDOW AND NEVER OPEN IT AGAI-

"'Reset: A Multitude of Errors' by," they squinted, "Duk-luns-ferd?"

STOP IT! STOP READING IT! DOWNLOAD ONE OF THOSE JAPANESE GAME APPS! ANYTHING!

"I wonder what Duk-luns-ferd's password is," they chuckled.

NOOOOOOOOO


	4. don't like? don't read 111ELEVENTYONE!

Now that their's no stupid narrator, the amazeng an attractive Frisk put there phone back in theere pocket. Oh, did I say Frisk was rich? because they totally are. It's really spelled Fri$k, but everyone misspells it, but Fri$k is so cool that Fri$k let's it slide. So Fri$k shoved the phone in thier pocket nexxt to the wads of money that they always have even though it makes them limp but everyone knows Fri$k is a hardcore pimp so they just say "Oh Fri$k you're so cool!" an beg to be Fri$k's girlfriends an boyfriends an interage-

Onterage-

Be Fri$k's groupies.

So Fri$k-Money pimpwalked down the hall an everything got dark. Other people see a exclamashun mark box when this happens, but otjer people r loosers. Fri$k-Money is so cool that it turns into a disco ball an the monsters say "Yur SOOOOOOOOOOO00000000000000OOOOOOOOOOO0000000000OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO cool, F-Money!" but I Psy an have to defeat them with my sick dance moves an tell them "The $ isn't silent" while I light my cigarette An put on my sunglasses an then I pimpwalked away.

 ***re-**

"MOTHER-F-!"

 **-set***


	5. Holey Moley

**Author's Note to the readers: I hope you enjoy this story now that it's getting back on track. Please take a minute to leave a review!**

 **Author's Note to self: Change password more frequently.**

* * *

After twenty minutes, Frisk was allowed to leave the corner, promising not to hack anyone else's internet accounts.

"Well, not anyone who can get back at me, anyway" they corrected.

… The kid's a work in progress.

They opened up their phone again to find that none of the websites they ever knew or found out about through ads worked on that phone. There was something called the UnderNet, but Frisk figured that could wait until another time. As their stomach began to growl, the phone began to ring. They looked at the screen and saw that Toriel was calling, almost as if she could hear their hunger.

"Hello," said Toriel on the other end. "Is this Frisk?"

"Yep. What's going on? Can you come get me now?"

"I'm... sorry," she said, her stilted speech making Frisk wonder if she was multitasking, "I'm still not done with my errands. By the way, for no reason in particular, which do you prefer: Bud, or Bud Light?"

 ***reset***

"XBox or PlayStation?"

 ***reset***

"Cinnamon or butterscotch?"

"Um, hook me up with the BScotch, Goat-Mama!" _Heavy on the scotch_ , Frisk thought.

"Oh. You want Butterscotch."

Frisk nodded.

"You want Butterscotch instead of cinnamon."

Frisk nodded louder.

"I mean, if you got something with cinnamon, you wouldn't be upset, would you?"

"Oh, no," Frisk chuckled. "You'd die last."

 ***reset***

"Your death would be quick."

 ***reset***

"Oh, no," Frisk chuckled, remembering how Toriel was crouched behind the pedestal while she attempted to help them grow stronger in her own way. "I wouldn't be upset at all."

"Oh, good! By the way, make sure not to leave the room I left you in. There are more puzzles that I haven't shown you yet. So stay put until I get you!"

"Okay," Frisk said, shrugging. "See you later." They hung up and decided to wait for Toriel.

 ***reset***

They hung up and stood still, deciding to take the advice of the person who rescued them.

 ***reset***

"Seriously," Frisk asked. Giving an exasperated sigh, they walked into another room further from the one with the pedestal. The next room had various patches of discoloration on the floor. As they stepped on one such area, attributing the color change to the wear and tear of age, the floor cracked beneath Frisk to prove them wrong. As soon as they could register the sound, they felt air rushing around them as an impolite floor rudely and abruptly stopped their fall. They groaned in pain, rubbing their sore hips and rear end.

"Man," they said, "this is really a pain in the…"

What?

What?

"In the… neck," they wisely finished.

Frisk looked up at the hole they fell through, trying to figure out how to escape or climb out, when they saw a shadow emerging. A plastic bottle landed at their feet with a thunk, accompanied by Toriel's chuckling.

"It puts the lotion on its skin, or else it gets the-"

 ***RESET! … again…***

Frisk looked up at the hole they fell through, trying to see if they could climb out. It seemed too high up to climb free-handedly, so they looked for a rope.

"Or a door," they muttered, seeing a simple door to their left. "That could work."

As they stepped inside, expecting to find light or a tool or something, they felt their head rushing. It felt as if they were falling up, if one could do such a thing. When they were able to move their legs again, they stepped into the same corridor, but with a gaping hole nearby where they presumably fell before. Looking at a sign on the far wall, they could just make out the words:

 **BEWARE OF PLOT HOLES.**

Frisk slapped their hand to their face and groaned at the incomprehensible brilliance of a certain storyteller.


	6. Crime and Pun-ishment

**Author's Note: Hello! Hope you enjoy this chapter, and please take a minute to leave a review. Thanks! (^.^)**

* * *

After solving a puzzle with floor switches and maps and meeting more odd frogs and flying monsters who seemed so pathetic that only a homicidal maniac would want to destroy them, they came to another room. In that room was four rocks, four floor switches, and a bridge with spikes on top. Frisk chuckled, deciding to forgo the puzzle and walk across the bridge. Taking a step forward, their vision began to darken as they looked down and saw the metal spike sticking out of the top of their foot.

 ***reset***

In that room was four rocks, four floor switches, and a bridge with NON-PRACTICE spikes on top.

"That's an important adjective to leave out," Frisk whispered, rubbing their foot like a recently impaled wuss. They stared angrily at the ceiling, apparently having forgotten how to take a joke, and began to push the various stones to their corresponding switches. As they came up the final switch, they heard a guitar riff. With wide eyes they slowly turned to see a jagged stone with a tiny Stratocaster leaned against it, the strings vibrating with each note played. Frisk inhaled sharply through their nose, raised their good foot above the stone and screamed, "Rock is dead!"

 ***reset***

Frisk walked up to the final rock as it wielded what looked and sounded like something frying in a skillet. But they couldn't smell what that rock was cooking.

 ***reset***

Frisk walked up to the fourth rock to move into the switch, but it screamed.

"Woah, dude," it said slowly. "Whaddaya think you're doing?"

"I need to finish this puzzle to find the goat lady," Frisk explain to the stone, trying not to think too hard about what this must look like to outsiders.

"To find the goat lady," it whispered, "you must first find yourself."

Frisk sighed deeply.

"Are you gonna move, or not," they asked.

"Oh, you need me to move," it asked. "No problem!"

They smiled, happy that the lady's advice of talking was finally yielding some results. When the stone moved to the left of the switch, the smile stayed on while their eyes went wide.

"What, what are you doing," they asked, tapping their finger repeatedly on their leg.

"I'm moving, little creature! This is called 'downward facing rock.' And this," it moved to the right of the switch, "is called 'downward facing rock.'"

Frisk grit their teeth, shouting in his mind, _Want me to show you "downward-facing foot up your-" wait, where do you shove things up a rock?_

"And this one," the stone said, while settling on the switch, "is called 'Let's Help the Little One Out'."

"Thank you," they said through gritted teeth. As they walked to the bridge, now a smooth surface where there were once metal spikes, they paused. Everything in this place seemed to try to have one last laugh at their expense, so they waited until the spikes would suddenly jump back up. But it never happened. They looked back to see that the rock was staring at the purple walls, muttering some song by Jimi Hendrix. It was then that Frisk realized that the rock was totally-

"No," said Frisk curtly

But I-

"No!"

…

You still thought it, didn't you?

"And that's why I hate you."

They began to walk forward until they saw an area of red leaves on the ground. When they looked more closely, they saw an outline of a ghost.

"Like, zoinks," Frisk screamed, running the other way.

 ***reset***

When they looked more closely, they saw an outline of Bruce Willis.

"Spoilers," Frisk screamed, running the other way.

…. Is there seriously someone who hasn't seen that yet.

 ***reset***

Frisk approached the ghost laying on the leaves as the room became darker. It looked rather cute. They walked carefully, stepping over the boxes of text on the ground that were totally always there in this story and not an afterthought written in for the sake of a later chapter.

"Um, excuse me," they said. "Can I get by here, please?" They weren't sure if it was possible to step on a ghost, but they didn't want to risk it. Corporeal or not, manners are manners.

As the room went dark and the exclamation box appeared over Frisk's head, the ghost eased itself off of the ground. It stared at them for a bit, and Frisk was suddenly seated at a pottery wheel while a romantic song from 1955 played in the background.

"Nope," Frisk yelled, jumping to their feet and knocking over the table.

 ***reset***

The ghost eased itself off of the ground and looked at them for a bit. Noticing the cellphone in their side pocket, the ghost asked, "A cellphone? Here? Who ya gonna call?"

"YO MAMA!"

 ***reset***

The ghost looked at them for a bit.

"Who were, um, who are you," Frisk asked.

"I am the outdated references and jokes which died a long time ago yet keep getting rehashed."

"How sad. Only the most pathetic people would use such unfunny jokes to summon you into existence."

"Yes," it sighed. "They don't know when to get new material, so they drag my jokes up from the depths."

"Let's pause for a moment of silence for the idiot who thinks these jokes are funny enough to write down more than a decade after the fact."

 ***reset, you ungrateful little…***

"I am the outdated references and jokes which-"

"Which are still hilarious," Frisk interrupted, laughing nervously.

The ghost stared for a moment, whispering in disbelief, "Someone's trying to cheer me up." It began to weep, the white tears offering only a minor physical challenge to Frisk. But seeing this lone ghost crying made them feel like every tear hit their own heart.

"Hey, buddy," they said, giving an encouraging smile. "You might be a bunch of old jokes, but sometimes the old jokes stay funny." After dodging another round of tears, they added, "And every joke is new to someone, right?"

"Do you wanna see something new," it asked quietly. Before Frisk could say anything, it began to cry again. This time, the tears fell up to the ghost's own head. Layer by layer, it continued until it formed a top hat. "My name is Napstablook, but I call this move 'Dapperblook.'"

"That is so stylish, you could call yourself 'Hippstablook'!"

The room returned to normal as the tear-hat disappeared.

"I always come to the ruins because I can have time to just lay down and be alone. But today," the ghost gave a smile, "I found someone nice."

"Me, too," Frisk said, wishing they knew how to hug a ghost. It moved to the side and began to float backwards into clouds which suddenly materialized in the hallway.

"Never forget who you are, Sim-"

THEN THE GHOST DISAPPEARED BEFORE DISNEY COULD FILE A CEASE AND DESIST NOTICE!

Frisk walked further down the hall.


	7. Love Tap

**Author's Note: Hello, everyone! Sorry for the hiatus. Stuff has been crazy recently! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and please take a moment to leave a review. Thanks! (^.^)**

* * *

Frisk walked around a corner to see a small courtyard in front of a home which had probably seen better days. Between them and the house was a tree, which seemed to be growing fairly well even with the lack of natural light. They wondered how this could be, if perhaps something was fertilizing the tree. Or someone.

"No I wasn't," Frisk screamed. "Who even thinks of something like that?"

Well, someone was thinking it.

"There you are," said Toriel, running towards Frisk with her purple cellphone in hand. As she approached, she began to run faster until all they could see was her feet stomping their corneas. Gravity dealt another blow as it felt like the ground managed to shove Frisk's vertebrae into their sternum.

"Reset," Frisk asked, moaning as they sat up and brushed the dirt off of themself. "Why," they asked after a moment. Toriel ran towards them again, this time falling to her knees and picking them up in a gentle embrace.

"I called you. I sent you a text. I went back to that room. But you were gone!" She shuddered and Frisk felt something rolling down their scalp. "I thought he had found you. I didn't want to lose you again!"

"I, I'm sorry," Frisk stammered. "I don't know what you mean by 'again,' but I'm sorry for making you so worried." They worked their arms away from their sides to embrace Toriel by the neck. "I should have checked my phone or sent you a message. And only a **_sick and twisted_** individual would think that leaving that spot was a good idea."

Hey! I resemble that remark!

"I'm sorry I overreacted," Toriel said, leaning back to get a vantage point to dust off Frisk's hair. "I guess I should have thought you might have left that area. My errands took much longer than I expected them to. It feels like I left you alone for almost a month!"

"Yes," Frisk replied slowly. "How 'bout that?"

The two of them stood silent for a moment before Frisk leaned back to finish the hug.

"So," they said. "This is all very nice, but you probably need to use your arms at some point…"

"Oh, right," Toriel said, carefully placing them upright on the ground. "I guess you're too old for that sort of thing."

They made an uncertain sound while shrugging. "I can walk and you seem busy. But this," they took one of her hands in their own, "this is always okay."

Toriel smiled, wrapping her large, furry monster hand around Frisk's smaller, less-furry human hand.

"Are you hungry," she asked.

"I'm famished," they answered, giving a playful kick to some of the leaves near the tree as they approached the house.

"How do you feel about fava beans and a nice Chianti?"

 ***reset***

"Do you want a milkshake? Mine brings all the boys to the yard."

 ***RESET!***

"Well, remember how I asked if you loved butterscotch and despised cinnamon?"

"Yeah, but remember? I'm okay with either."

"I was very glad you said that, because I've just finished baking my famous butterscotch-cinnamon pie!"

"Wait, that's a thing," they asked.

Apparently so.

"And I think there's still some ice cream in the freezer, so we can have pie ala mode if you'd like!"

Frisk stopped dead in their tracks.

"Please tell me it's not goat milk," they whispered.

"What? Why do you-" Toriel stopped and her eyes went wide, her face shifting into a mixture of empathetic concern and suppressed laughter. "No, it's not made of milk from goats." As the two walked to the kitchen, she added with uproarious laughter, "At least not any you know!"

They wordered how quickly they could become lactose intolerant.


	8. Feels Train

**Author's Note: I hope you enjoy this chapter! If you enjoy this story, please take a moment to leave a review. Thanks!**

* * *

Frisk dashed into Toriel's room. The non-dairy ice cream had complimented the pie wonderfully, but a large scoop had landed on the apron-like covering of her robes. She had asked them to go to her room and get a clean one from her dresser while she tried to keep the stain from setting.

"Okay," Frisk muttered to themself, "top drawer on the right. Top drawer on the right."

They opened the drawer and began to choke on their spit.

"That's the top drawer," they gasped, "but that ain't right!"

*reset*

They opened the drawer to find-

"Socks," Frisk screamed in relief. "Pure, innocent socks."

They continued to rummage for a bit until they saw a folded bit of cloth which matched the soiled apron.

"Found it," Frisk called out, slamming the drawer shut against any more unwelcome surprises.

"In here," Toriel said loudly. They followed her voice to a semi-closed door where her hand stuck through. They put the clean apron in her hand, waited a moment, and she emerged in her new clothes.

"My other apron has to soak, but we can get you into some clean clothes and throw your dirty clothes into the wash."

"I appreciate the thought, but I kind of need to get going."

Toriel stared, her eyes emitting pinpoint spots of red light.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Frisk."

 ***Reeeeeeseeeeeeet. RESEEEEEEEET! Re-set. Re-set. Re-set. Re-set***

"Thanks, but I wasn't planning on staying here. I want to go home."

Toriel's shoulders sunk under the weight of that statement. After a moment, she straightened up again.

"Well, home is where the heart is," she said, pulling out a knife. "I have a nice jar for it and we can keep it under the floorboards!"

 ***reset. Toriel, girl, you need some help.***

"How can I get out of the ruins," Frisk asked, carefully watching Toriel's empty hands as she stared with empty eyes. "I want to go back to the surface."

Light seemed to return to Toriel's eyes and she cleared her throat.

"I will not lose you again," she said, running down the hall and out of sight. They weren't sure what exactly was going on, but they knew they had to-

"I know what's going on," Frisk said, taking off in the same direction.

No. You're totally oblivious to Toriel's actions.

"Okay, I might be new around here, but I'm not an idiot. She's hurting because of something. She's worried about something. She wants to protect me from something."

Leave the narrating to those of us who know how to language the words much good.

"I don't know the details," Frisk screamed in frustration between gasps, "but all I know is she wants to protect me, I want to go back to the surface, and all of this sucks!"

Frisk slowed their pace as they neared Toriel standing in front of a stone door, her back to them. A fireball left her hand and scorched the doorframe.

"I just want to leave," Frisk said, surprised at how fast this monster could run.

"Why? So he can kill you," she screamed, blasting a fireball from her hand and into the ground. Frisk stared at the foot-deep crater as Toriel spun around, her face wet with tears. "So he can harvest your soul just like the others who fell down here and didn't let me protect them?"

"I want to go back to the surface. And the only way I can is through the exit, when I suspect is far on the other side of that door, right?"

Right.

"Right," Toriel refused to say.

"Please," Frisk whispered, "let me go."

"If you're so determined," she said, her nose scrunched in a snarl as her brow creased in fear, "then prove it." Fireballs emerged from her hands again as the room went dark and the exclamation mark-cube appeared overhead. "Prove you're strong enough to survive!"

They dodged to the left and right, occasionally humming a cliched Johnny Cash song as the fire swung around them. They paid no mind to the rectangles filled with text that appeared on the floor.

"I'm not the largest," they ducked, "or the toughest," they jumped out of the way of two fireballs, "but you've taught me how to be strong!" Toriel took a moment to catch her breath. "Because you've taught me to be kind."

"And they weren't," she asked, unleashing a large, but slower, volley of fire. "Sally was patient and kind, and all I was able to get from her body was her favorite ribbon! Zainab's bravery," a fireball landed far to Frisk's left, "Andre's integrity, Paulo's perseverance," three fireballs landed far to the right, "Pat's kindness, none of them were strong enough and I failed every one of them!" Frisk stood still as Toriel continued to blast a hole into the ground between them before she fell to her knees. "Even Avi couldn't have justice. None of them could."

"I don't know what happened with all of them," said Frisk, jumping over the gulf and standing by Toriel, "but I can do this. I have the narrator!"

"The what," she asked.

"I can do this. I mean," they motioned to the destruction wrought on the corridor leading to the house, "I got through all of that!" They stooped down, affectionately rubbing her shoulder. "I hate to see you like this."

*re-

"No," they whispered.

What?

"What," Toriel asked.

"Give me a moment," they said, walking a few steps away. "Listen," they whispered harshly, "she's been through a real mess, and I'm probably the only one who's listened to her about this! I hate to see her like this-"

Then why not a nice reset to make it go away?

"Because the only thing that'll go away is any good that can come from her talking about it. I don't care what I have to go through, if I can help her."

Good to hear. Means we can keep going. Now trust me on this one.

"I can't let you go," Toriel screamed, launching a fireball. "Ever!"

 ***reset***

"I don't want to let you go," Toriel whispered, standing up and dusting herself off. "I really don't." She hugged them for a moment and looked down at them. "Because if I do, I won't know what happens to you. But who of us knows what will happen in the future?" She kissed them on the top of their head. "I'm afraid that Asgore will find you. But if you could dodge my attacks, then he should be afraid that you'll find him!"

Frisk laughed and imitated a boxer, posing victoriously. "Humans and monsters! Your champion of survival, Frisk!"

Toriel chuckled and clapped. She opened the door to a snowy path and hugged them again.

"Follow this road and you'll get to Snowdin. You should be able to get anything you'll need there, but remember our practice in case you meet some spooked monsters along the way."

"Gotcha. I'll call you when I get there."

"That's my child."

With that, Frisk walked through the snow, occasionally waving to Toriel as she continued to stand watch. When distance drew her out of view, they sent a text message to her with an animated picture of a waving cartoon attached. She couldn't help smiling or crying as she opened a new text to the mystery number who had first messaged her so long ago.

"Knock-knock," she typed.

"that's my line," they replied, "but okay. who's there?"

"F-U-C."

"...," they replied. "i'm scared to ask," they added, "but f-u-c who?"

"F-U-C a human, please protect them."

"i'll try."

"Promise!"

"you know i don't like promises."

"Please."

"fine," came the reply after several minutes. "i promise."

She breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't know who this was, so she gave them a nickname so she could save their number.

"Thank you, Pun-derful Person."


	9. A New(?) Friend

**Author's Note: Hi, everyone! Hope you enjoy the next chapter. Please take a moment to leave a review! Thanks! (And thanks to the guests who've left reviews already. Sorry I can't message you to thank you personally.)**

* * *

The snow softened Frisk's footsteps, replacing the typical rhythmic taps with steady thuds and crunching. As they walked through the dense forest which began near Toriel's door, the ground suddenly began to shake, and they heard a voice as deep and creaking as the trees themselves.

"What are you doing, little Orc?"

 ***reset! A narrator should know better!***

Walk faster! I can hear banjos!

 ***reset***

As they walked, they heard a footstep behind them. Seemed like the perfect time to practice speed-walking. Seemed like the other walker thought the same and matched their pace. Frisk hurried, but was stopped by a large fence. Past the fence was a ravine with a single wooden bridge spanning it.

"Don't you know how to greet a new friend," came a voice that stabbed deeper than any cold. "Turn around."

Frisk turned around to see a human woman donned in extravagant furs with an ornate crown atop her head. She held aloft a goblet in one hand.

"I am looking for four children. Siblings. Two boys and two girls. They wish to bring an end to my rule, but I cannot have that. If you help me stop them, I can grant you anything your heart desires."

Frisk pulled a spiked bat out of their pocket.

"Consider this pro bono," they said, swinging the bat a few times in their hands.

 ***reset! Frisk! What did I tell you about genocide?***

Past the fence was a ravine with a single wooden bridge spanning it. Frisk's heart burned in anger as they turned around to see a blonde human woman in an impractically long, light-blue dress. She sang an overused empowerment song about releasing things as she created snow and ice structures with no visible tools.

"You're about to let your **_life_** go," Frisk asked as they swung the spiked bat around in their hands.

Don't you do it!

"I'mma do it," they said.

Well, since you put it that way...

 ***reset after a scene rated R for immature audiences***

Frisk heard footsteps behind them as they were pinned in by the fence.

"Worth it," they muttered, smiling, as the voice behind them began to speak cheerfully.

"don't you know how," the voice sighed and resumed more slowly, "to greet a new friend? turn around and shake my hand."

Frisk remembered Toriel's warning and turned around slowly. They didn't intend on spooking any monsters.

They also didn't intend on screaming when they saw a talking skeleton wearing a blue jacket, shorts and house shoes.

Nor did they intend on vomiting in the monster's probably face.

 ***reset. I don't wanna have a bad time.***

Frisk turned their lips inward to contain any expulsion of fear, sound-based or otherwise.

"i think you threw up about a week's worth of food there," the skeleton said, wiping their face despite its cleanliness.

 ***reset***

"i'm not even mad," they said, putting their hand-held whooping cushion in their jacket pocket. "if anything, i'm impressed."

 ***reset***

"kid-"

 ***reset***

"-why-"

 ***reset***

"-are-"

 ***reset***

"-you-"

 ***reset***

"-doing-"

 ***reset***

"-this?"

"I'm not," Frisk answered, their face in a similar state of fearful admiration as if they were watching a volcano.

"with all due respect-"

 ***Reset.***

"-i wasn't-"

 ** _*Reset!*_**

"-talking to-"

 ** _*RESET!*_**

"-you."

"Can you stop that," Frisk asked, swaying side-to-side. "I'm getting a little dizzy."

"no problem," said the skeleton, snickering before adding in a whisper, "f-money."

"Okay, maybe one more."

 ***reset***


	10. Boneheads

**Author's Note: Hi, everyone! Hope you enjoy this next chapter, and please take a moment to leave a review. Thanks! (^.^)**

* * *

"alright, i won't call you that again," the skeleton said, rubbing the back of his head. That last reset hit him particularly hard.

"Who are you," asked Frisk. "Do you have a name?"

"yes." He took a breath and yelled, "john ce-"

 ***so much reset it's not even funny***

"Do you have a name?"

He stood up straight and lifted his head with an air of superiority. "there are some who call me," he raised his eyebrows, "tim?"

 ***Then suddenly, the skeleton suffered from a severe reset. The movie reference was no more***

The skeleton reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an apple. After staring at it closely, he leaned forward, his eyes flashing.

"i am kira," he whispered.

 ***reset. I would've figured him more as Ryuk if anything***

"the name's sans," he answered, jotting down a name in a black notebook. Ha! You don't even know my real name.

"i will soon enough," he muttered. "what's your name," he added in a conversational tone.

"I'm Frisk."

"well, frisk, i may be an old _bag-o-bones_ -"

"Wait…"

"but it was sure-"

No!

"nice to _meat_ you!"

I refuse to understand that painful pun!

"You're alright," said Frisk, giving an appreciative pat on the back. They weren't one for puns, but anything that could get revenge on the narrator was okay in their book.

"let's go ahead and keep walking ahead," said Sans. "my brother made this fence too large to stop anybody."

"Your what did what now," they asked as he led them through the now ridiculously wide spaces between each individual fence post. "Not sure how this could stop anyone." They weren't sure how it stopped them earlier.

"my _hard-headed_ brother's a human-hunting fanatic." In the distance, Frisk could hear someone scream "NYEH" in irritation and exasperation. "but he sometimes has a bit of a soft side," Sans continued as the noises grew closer. "he- papyrus- he says that fences are good for protection, and then says that the horizontal parts of fences make it hard for friends to visit. he's a good guy," he added with a smile. "speaking of which, you might want to hide in a moment. he sounds like he's on his way."

"Why? I want to meet this good guy!"

"oh, he is a good guy, no doubt about that. but I have the suspicion that you want your soul to stay inside your body, and letting my brother find you like this will kinda bring about the opposite. quick," he said, pointing. "jump into that conveniently-shaped bear trap!"

 ***reset!***

"stand on that big, red x! and don't mind the bank vault suspended fifty feet above it!"

 ***reset***

"hide inside the stomach of that angry shark! no, you're too slow. lemme help you."

 ***reset***

"hide behind that lamp!"

"Uh, which one," Frisk asked. They looked where Sans had pointed only to see at least a dozen various lamps of differing shapes and sizes. A few were tall, a few were short, and one seemed to be holding a spear.

"behind the conveniently-shaped one," he answered, pushing Frisk to one which had the perfect shape of them in profile.

"Do I want to know where or why you got all of these lamps?"

"i don't know. do you?"

"just tell me when it's safe to come back out," they answered. They figured that if those lamps were anything like that sock drawer, ignorance was bliss.

The moment their form was fully concealed behind the amalgamation of ceramics and metals and lampshades, they spied a taller skeleton arriving in the area.

"SANS," he screamed, "YOU HAVEN'T CALIBRATED YOUR PUZZLES!"

"sorry, bro. i'll do them to- _marrow_."

Sans turned and faced the trees to the right and made a pose as Papyrus stomped his foot in frustration at the pun. The pain the taller brother had to endure due to familial bond caused Frisk to both smile and wonder if they were just a touch sadistic.

"I SENT YOU A TEXT THIS MORNING TO REMIND YOU TO DO THAT TODAY!"

"a text?" Sans sighed before breaking into a very awkward dance. "you used to _skull_ me on my cell- _bone_."

"DON'T _**BREAK**_ IT ON DOWN, BROTHER!"

"aaw, paps! i'm so proud! and look, you're even smiling!"

"I'M GRINDING MY TEETH IN PAIN, NOT DELIGHT!" The subsequent "NYEH HYEH HYEH HYEH HYEH!" successfully undermined the comment.

"i'll go ahead and work on them right now" said Sans, screaming the last word as Paps picked him up and swung him in a circle.

"OH THANK YOU, BROTHER OF MINE! I KNOW WE'LL CATCH A WHO TODAY!"

"who?"

"A **_WHO-MAN_**! WE WILL CATCH A WHO-MAN! NYEH HYEH HYEH HYEH HYEH!" The gleeful giggles faded as Sans' brother quickly departed.

"can't live with 'im, can't live without 'im," chuckled Sans as Frisk stepped out from behind the lamp.

"So that's the one who can't figure out fences?"

"yeah. i wouldn't have it any other way. speaking of other way," He stopped and motioned down the path, "continue that way to get to our town, Snowdin. you should be fine. i'll see you later up ahead."

"But I thought you said I'll be in danger!"

"i'll figure something out, don't worry." He began to walk the opposite way.

"You said you'd meet me ahead," Frisk called out.

"Shortcuts," Sans replied. A sudden whirlwind of snow picked up, and when it settled down, the jacketed skeleton was out of sight. Frisk decided to continue onwards.


	11. A Beautiful Brawl

**Author's Note: Hello, everyone! Hope you enjoy this next chapter, and please take a moment to leave a review. Thanks! (^.^)**

* * *

The air was crisp and chill, though not a snowflake could be blamed for that. The cold shock Frisk felt as they looked ahead was unrelated to the frigid winds which blew around them. They wanted to run. They knew they didn't stand a chance against what was approaching them. But whether it was due to the darkness that accompanied a meeting with a monster or from the sheer awe at the sight before them, they could not move.

Before them was a monster with an ice cap more spectacular than anything they had seen in their life.

It was all Frisk could do to dodge their attacks, unaware of their feet activating the various action boxes that always appear when they have a monster encounter. When their eyes turned away to make sure each jump was landed properly, they immediately turned back to that shining beacon of beauty before them. That cap! That blasted, painfully beautiful cap! No. As much as they wanted to stay with that beautiful headgear for the rest of their life, they believed that getting to the surface was more important. But just barely.

Shaking their mind free of the fog, of the loveliness perched atop the monster's head, they remembered Toriel's advice to talk to monsters. They took a shuddering breath and managed some words from a heart wounded by such splendor.

"Your cap is amazing," they said. The monster looked up like some shaman bearing an unearthly beauty.

"Yah, who doesn't know," the monster scoffed, finishing the eye roll before launching another attack.

Frisk grunted as it caught their leg, the freezing pain causing them to tumble onto the ground. It was almost as great as the pain in their soul from being unable to continue gazing upon the magnificent cap.

"Uh, my cap is up here," the monster shouted, their attack missing Frisk by an embarrassingly large margin.

"What cap," they whispered, biting their lip and keeping their eyes to the ground. This was it. This was the only way. To forgo looking at that cap would mean their freedom and life. There may come a day, many years from then, their heart would heal from such a loss. But it is not this day.

The tears poured, freely flowing from eyes that begged to see that cap.

"Ugh! Whatever!"

The monster stormed off, leaving Frisk collapsed on the ground, gripping the grass beneath the snow. They survived, but at what cost?

 ***reset***

The area went dark as Frisk could see a monster approaching from the distance. They braced themselves for whatever attack may come. They became tense as the monster continued to walk. If it was that large from such a distance, how huge must they be up close?

They furrowed their brows after another moment. This wasn't a behemoth slowly lumbering towards them from a great distance; this snow-like monster was just spectacularly short. Even with that cap which served to double their original height. It was ridiculous, really.

"Seriously," Frisk asked, looking the monster in the eye. The monster stammered in frustration before launching an attack.

"My cap is up here," the snow creature shouted.

Frisk noticed that the frustration seemed to give rise to less severe attacks, so they continued to stare like that thing behind you is staring at your neck. OH MY GOSH IT HAS CLAWS!

 ***reset***

They continued to stare like someone who had no more flips to give, flying or otherwise.

"Ugh! Whatever," the monster finally shouted. It stormed off to, Frisk hoped, the hat store to get a refund.

* * *

They felt nervous as they walked, feeling so exposed on this open path with Sans and Papyrus visibly in the distance. But if there were any other paths, they hadn't found them. They approached the brothers, the soft noise of conversation shifted into Papyrus' noisy but endearing comments.

"AND I FINALLY REALIZED WHAT WAS MISSING FROM MY SPAGHETTI," Papyrus said.

"what's that, bro?"

"HUMAN SOULS!"

 ***reset! Papyrus needs to stop watching certain cooking shows.***

"what's that, bro?"

"HUMAN FLESH!"

 ***Not… Not exactly better. Reset.***

"what's that, bro?"

"WELL, EVERYONE SAYS THAT FOOD MUST BE MADE WITH LOVE-"

"i know you put a few boxes of that in each time," Sans commented. Frisk could hear the smile in his voice and found the determination to continue forward.

"-BUT I FOUND OUT RECENTLY THAT OTHER THINGS ARE NEEDED AS WELL! FOR EXAMPLE, DID YOU KNOW THAT SOME CHEFS USE WATER WHEN THEY COOK PASTA?"

"wait, _water_ you talking about?"

"I MEAN THEY PUT PASTA IN THE WATER BEFORE TURNING ON THE FIRE," exclaimed Papyrus. Frisk wished they were so lucky as to miss the pun. As the brother's happened to look in their direction, they wished they had been so lucky as to miss their notice.

They couldn't see when they were hiding behind the lamp before, but on closer inspection, the taller of the two brothers seemed to be wearing white armor with a red cape, complete with two basketball-like objects on his shoulders. He pointed in their direction, eyes and mouth wide from either shock or the nature of his skeletal being, and gasped.

"IS THAT A HUMAN," he whispered.

"i think that's a rock," Sans answered. Frisk turned around to see what they were looking at and saw a small stone with a large duffel bag covered in cartoon flowers.

"Woah, little creature," the stone said. "Are you on a quest, too?"

"Yes," Frisk said, an answer with a silent confusion.

"Me too, little dude! May we meet on the other side!" Managing to whisper without apparent body parts which tends to necessitate such a feat, the stone added, "Gotta get to Grillbyz to get some deep fried mayo bites."

"but what's that talking to the rock," Sans asked, breaking Frisk out of the nauseating nightmare of fried condiments.

"IS THAT A HUMAN," Papyrus asked, both screeching and whispering.

"yes," answered Sans.

Papyrus readjusted his stance, sticking out his chest as his cape flew with no tangible wind. Pointing at Frisk in the manner of a cliched anime character-

"So, any anime character, really," they muttered.

\- Papyrus raised his voice.

"HUMAN! YOU MAY THINK BECAUSE YOU'VE GOTTEN INTO OUR REALM THAT YOU CAN DEFEAT I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS! BUT YOU HAVE NOT SEEN WHAT THE ALMIGHTY, ALL-ENCOMPASSING, ALL-STAR CHEF PAPYRUS CAN DO! FEAR THE WONDER OF PAPYRUS, THE NEXT MEMBER OF THE ROYAL GUARD ONCE I BRING YOUR SOUL TO UNDYNE! TREMBLE AT THE PUZZLES WROUGHT BY THE MIND OF PAPYRUS! EVERY STEP YOU TAKE WILL BE CLOSER TO YOUR DOOM AT THE HANDS OF PAPYRUS! I'M PAPYRUS!"

With that, he ran, his style seeming to be more at home in a field of flowers than on a defensive mission. Frisk took a few steps towards Sans, stopped, and shrugged while pointing in the direction which Papyrus ran.

"he's going to make sure his puzzles are ready for you," Sans explained before walking in the other direction. "it's been a long time since I've seen him so happy." He turned, his face seeming to have a deeper smile than before, and added, "he really is a good guy. thanks for making him so happy."

"Aren't you going to go with him?"

"are you kidding me? we both heard that rock: grillbyz has got fried mayo balls! gonna see if he has any ketchup ones left."

And with that he was gone, leaving Frisk to continue forward, somewhat alone.

"I wonder if I'll be in this story," a dark figured whispered in a strange dialect before their dark form faded into darker shadows.


	12. Updawg

**Author's Note: Hello, everyone! Hope you're doing well and that you enjoy this latest chapter of Reset. PSA, one of my other stories (The Fallen Children) is up for adoption. PM me if you're interested, and please take a moment to leave a review. Thanks! (^.^)**

* * *

Frisk cocked their head to the side as they tried to comprehend the sign in front of them. It was octagonal like a stop sign. It was on a post like most stop signs tend to be. It even has white writing. But it was

"Blue," Frisk whispered. "Abu-dee abu-dai, abu-dee abu-"

 ***reset. I don't care what that band says, those are the correct lyrics.***

"Blue," Frisk whispered.

And that's where the sign lost them.

"And that's where the sign loses me. I mean, it says 'Stop,' but what does that even mean when it's written on a blue octagon?"

It was a mystery to them.

"Because a different color means something other than what's written on it!"

They… They might have gone a little overboard seeing the strange sign.

"What is my life anymore," they screamed, falling to their knees.

Do I detect a hint of sarcasm?

"Why stop at blue stop signs," they asked, hitting the ground repeatedly with their fist. "Why not have dogs and cats living together? Mass hysteria!"

 ***When there's something strange, and not written good, whatcha gonna do? HIT RESET!***

"That's weird," Frisk said, squinting their eyes at the blue stop sign. Despite the sign's absence of red and the fact that they were not driving a car, they stopped and looked both ways before proceeding forward.

"Stop," someone barked. Frisk saw a dog on his hind legs with parachute pants. "Hammer time!"

 ***My, my, my, my resets hit me so hard***

Frisk saw what looked like a dog on his hind legs in a long dress with two dogs of similar stature and dress behind him.

"Stop," he barked, "in the name of love!"

 ***before I reeeeeseeeet! No game ooooooooovers!***

Frisk saw a monster resembling a dog on his hind legs wielding two blue swords which shone all the more brightly as the darkness settled around them. He would've looked cool in his camouflage pants and sleeveless shirt if those swords didn't look so very sharp.

"Stop," he barked. "Don't move any closer!"

Frisk happily obliged, raising their hands to show they meant no harm. They remembered reading that some animals take direct eye contact as a threat, so they lowered their eyes to both keep them in view but to convey clean intentions of peace. As they looked down, they noticed a variety of shapes and letters.

"Wait, how long has that been there," they asked, looking at the various rectangles and words. Bringing their gaze a little closer to the monster, they also saw the word "Doggo."

"Is that his name," they added. "And seriously, where did all this come from?"

Oh, you mean the action buttons that were there the whole time?

"No they weren't."

Yes they were! See for yourself.

Doggo and some stray snowflakes in the air were suddenly frozen in place. Frisk pulled out their cellphone and read the previous chapters .

"You added that in, didn't you," they muttered.

No, see? It says right there that I, the one who controls the story, didn't add it after the fact!

"Keep telling yourself that," they replied, putting their phone back in their pocket. As their hands resumed a gesture of submission, Doggo began to move in anticipation of a fight as the snow moved in anticipation of a flight. Frisk booed the brilliant play on words and was quickly slapped upside the head by a stray snowflake.

"If you move any closer," snarled Doggo, "I will have to make sure you don't move at all, which would then render my one and only attack **ineffectual**!" He threw his head back, howling the final word.

Stock-still in both fear and confusion, Frisk watched as one of the blue blades passed through them. It was like any other instance of sword entering flesh, except for the minor differences of a lack of blood, excruciating pain, or torn clothes.

"What," Doggo gasped. "I thought something was moving. I can only see moving things, so I slashed at it with my Can-Only-Damage-Moving-Objects-9000 sword! Let's try that **again**!" With the final word, he swung his other sword at Frisk, again thwarted by their frozen posture.

"What is my life anymore," Doggo asked, staring at their swords.

"Do I detect a hint of sarcasm," Frisk muttered.

No, I think his was serious.

"I gotta take some time out to think things over," he said, sheathing his swords and taking out a small box with something akin to a Surgeon General's warning written on it. Tapping the bottom of the box, he slid a small dog treat into his open paw and placed it between his lips as he exchanged the box for a lighter from his pocket.

"So I guess that doesn't throw off the T-rating," Frisk asked as Doggo lumbered off and the world became a little brighter. "Them being, _ahem_ , dog treats and all."

Exactly.

"Figured as much. Well, let's get a move on."

No move on was gotten, as the sound of sniffing behind their head caused them to shudder. Was Doggo still nearby and catch Frisk moving?

They slowly turned back to see what appeared to be another bipedal dog. This one was in armor as opposed to Doggo's casual gear. Though it held aloft a single sword, with its other paw being occupied by a full-body shield, it's grandeur came not from its sword or armor or the symbols engraved thereon. It came from his squishy-ooshy, fwuffy widdle face!

"Imma pet it," Frisk cried out as the area went dark and the action buttons appeared on the ground. "Let's see here." They navigated until finding that the action choices fully agreed with their plan. They jumped on the third "pet" option with both feet and took off running towards the fluffy little warrior.

The monster- Frisk noticed the name that appeared was Lesser Dog- began to pant in apparent excitement. After they pet Lesser Dog, his fur soft and warm with adorability and love, he seemed to stretch out his neck and leapt onto Frisk while barking. The snow protected them from serious injury as they landed on the ground, but there was little to nothing to cushion the impact to their chest made by adorable paws. They felt like their HP meter, if such a thing existed, would have decreased from the injury. They got up with a pained moan and brushed the snow from their arms and hair. Looking at the smiling Lesser Dog, the ideas of petting them some more filled them with determination.

Jumping from their position, they bounded towards Lesser Dog, their cheeks burning with happiness as they pet him. They saw that it wasn't their imagination, that he really was stretching his neck with each pet, his stature becoming greater and greater each time Frisk was able to dodge the tackles and rub his neck or scratch behind his ears. After about twenty minutes of this brutal game of tag, Lesser Dog seemed to have difficulty keeping his balance.

"Who's a good boy," Frisk asked in a baby voice. As Lesser Dog looked in suspense, they continued, "You are!"

He howled and barked, his head and neck mimicking his wagging tail.

"And aren't you a cute boy!" Frisk glanced at the snow and got an idea. "Wanna make another cutesy-wootsey warrior? Don'tcha? Don'tcha? Wanna make a make a cute little guy outta the snow?"

Are you asking if he wants to make a s-

"Shut up," Frisk snapped. Lesser dog put his ears back, causing Frisk to wave their hands in front of them. "No, not you, sweetie. You go and make a snow friend, okay? Go on!"

A loud click was heard, followed by a whirring as Lesser Dog's neck length returned to normal and he bound away, seeking to form the perfect snow companion.

"If I ever get out of her," Frisk said, turning and continuing on their path, "I wanna get a pet. Cat, bird, maybe even updawg."


	13. Nothing Gets Past-a Me

**_Author's Note: Hello! I hope you enjoy this next chapter of Reset!_**

* * *

 ***reset***

Frisk gasped deeply, life restored to their former corpse.

"The next time you take a break from all this," they bellowed, standing up and dusting the snow off their clothes, "leave some food first or something!"

Oh, you mean that?

Frisk turned their head and saw a table with a plate of spaghetti and a note.

"I said food," Frisk muttered, walking over to investigate the note.

What? That spaghetti is food.

"Given there's only one cook I know of here, that's debatable."

They read the note, their internal reading voice taking a very specific volume.

 _DEAR HUMAN,_

 _GREETINGS! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WHILE I MUST INDEED CAPTURE YOU SO THAT YOUR SOUL MAY BE REMOVED AND USED TO DESTROY THE BARRIER WHICH TRAPS US HERE_ -

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait," Frisk said, looking up. "He said he wanted to get into the royal guard! What's all this soul-stealing crap?" After a moment of silence, they turned their attention back to the letter, rustling slightly in their less-than-steady hands.

- _BE THAT AS IT MAY, AND IN SPITE OF YOUR RUDENESS OF INTERRUPTING MY LETTER TO TALK TO THE SKY, I HAVE LEFT SOME PORCELAIN BY-PRODUCT, OFTEN CALLED A PLATE, COVERED WITH TOMATO BY-PRODUCT AND WHEAT BY-PRODUCTS! PLEASE ENJOY A PLATE OF DELICIOUS NOT-A-TRAP SPAGHETTI WITH LET-YOUR-GUARD-DOWN-C'MON-YOU-KNOW-YOU-WANT-TO SAUCE!_

 _LOVE ALWAYS,_

 _PAPYRUS_

 _P.S._

 _BON APPETIT! BON APPETIT! BON APPETIT! BON APPETIT! BON APPETITE!_

Frisk turned their head to see that their reading voice was coming from behind a conveniently-shaped lamp. They took a large step to the right to see Papyrus, his hands cupped around his mouth, repeating the letter's post-script. When their eyes met, his mouth froze, though it was unclear as to whether it was a guilty smile (was that a smile?) or if he was about to repeat those words yet again. His chuckle gave credence to the latter. Frisk held up the letter.

"Too meta," they said, pushing it into his hands. His eye sockets seemed to glow in a manner similar to popular Japanese cartoons and he gasped. His voice took a pitch higher than Frisk though possible, and they thought they tasted copper for a moment.

"TO METTATON? YOU THINK HE WOULD LIKE IT IF I SENT HIM SOME OF MY SPAGHETTI- NO!" Papyrus cleared his throat and resumed in his usual tone of voice. "NO, HUMAN! THE LETTER WAS FOR YOU. DIDN'T YOU SEE THAT? THAT NOT-A-TRAP TRAP WAS FOR YOU TO ENJOY! DON'T YOU WANT TO EAT IT ALL RIGHT NOW AND LET YOUR GUARD DOWN?"

Frisk looked at him, the glow of excitement replaced by the illumination of enthusiasm. They felt they couldn't bring themself to reject the spaghetti outright, but the second half of the request made them hesitate.

"I, uh, yeah! Well, I thought it was for that person, monster, whatever thing. Metric Ton!"

"THAT'S NOT HIS NAME."

"Metric Tonne?"

"THAT'S NOT IT EITHER!"

"Metropolitan Museum of Art?"

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT IS!"

"Well, when I saw your amazing culinary spectacle, I assumed it must surely be for the one and only-" Frisk began to cough unconvincingly.

"METTATON?"

"-yes, Mettaton," they said, the conveniently-timed coughs having finished. "I was just kidding before. So I was sure that such amazing food would be for such a one as Mettaton! I'm just a human. I think you should send that spaghetti to him! That is totally what I was thinking when I saw it on the table."

"REALLY?" This time, his voice was reminiscent of a blue, copyrighted cartoon alien who landed on an island in Hawaii.

"Yes!"

"OH, HUMAN! IN LAYING DOWN YOUR GUARD, YOU HAVE LAID BARE YOUR HEART! INSTEAD OF TAKING THE SPAGHETTI TO METTATON YOURSELF, YOU WANTED TO HELP I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, GIVE A GIFT TO THE MOST FAMOUS ROBOT IN ALL OF THE UNDERGROUND! BUT YOU NEEDN'T WORRY FOR ME. EAT YOUR FILL OF THAT PASTA, AND I WILL POUR MY METAPHORICAL HEART INTO A LITERAL BATH OF SPAGHETTI FOR METTATON!"

He ran off, NYEHing for joy as he went. Before his distance caused his to disappear from sight, Frisk noticed that there was a fluttering of both his red scarf and what looked like a pink apron. They were sure that he didn't have that apron on during their conversation a moment before.

"Does he just keep those clothes on under his normal clothes," Frisk wondered. "And speaking of which, what's all this of souls and stuff?"

A book labeled _Wiki Entry for Undertale_ fell before them on the ground with a thud. They looked up in surprise.

Frisk, kid, let me learn you a thing.


	14. Walk?

**Author's Note: Hello, everyone! I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

"I'm in hell," Frisk said when they finished the book.

No, Frisk! Just because there are skeletons, monsters (some of which want to take your soul,) fire, evil disguised as innocence, spikes, and it all takes place in the bowels of the earth and away from everything that's considered good, it doesn't mean you're in hell!

"Oh no, that's all perfectly fine. It is what it is."

Then why did you say you were in hell?

"Gee, I wonder what gave me that impression," they said, glaring until spikes shot up from the ground and through their torso.

 ***reset***

"Avalanche!"

 ***I***

"Why did it have to be snakes?"

 ***think***

"That's not supposed to bend like that!"

 ***you're***

"'Undertail'? My eyes!"

 ***overreacting***

"If I get moving, will you stop?"

For now.

"Fine, I'll go for a walk," huffed Frisk as they looked around, thinking of where to go. Making a plan with the information they had. Wondering what that noise was and why it was getting closer. After a moment, they could make out both the sound and shape on the horizon.

"walk? Walk? Walk? WALK?" The noise rose as the shape launched into the sky and landed before them with a shuddering thud. "Walk," the monster exclaimed.

Frisk stared as his white fur and armor shone all the more brightly against the dark of a confrontation. They were hesitant to see this potential opponent as a monster, as their appearance and name ("Lesser Dog" as indicated along with his stats) were more in keeping with some adorable canine from the surface than a monster.

"Walk," Lesser Dog repeated, tilting their fluffy little head in confusion.

"No, no walk," Frisk said. As his ears began to droop, they stammered, accessing the list of possible actions. "I wonder what I'm supposed to do," they chuckled as a list of six options appeared, five of which were written with the same three letters: P-E-T.

They slowly approached him, unsure of how to pet someone who was part warrior and part adorability incarnate.

"Mind if I give ya a little pet, little buddy? Uh, Commander? Um…. Sergeant Fluffy-Wuffy? Sorry, I don't know if Lesser Dog is your name or title."

Despite the awkward approach, Lesser Dog continued to stand there patiently, sword and smile at the ready as each pant brought another puff of hot steam into the cold air. When their hand was practically touching him, he raised up to meet their hand, moving his head to indicate that he wanted to be scratched behind the ears. Frisk smiled, the soft, warm fur under their fingers bringing a quick stab of homesickness for both the surface as well as a certain home where the owner could make pretty dang good cinnamon-butterscotch pie.

"There ya go," they said with a smile as Lesser Dog rolled over onto his back. The smile faded as he rolled back onto his paws and leapt straight for them. "Good doggy," they screamed, leaping to the side, avoiding injury.

Again the same options appeared:

Check.

Pet.

Pet.

Pet.

Pet.

Pet.

"Well, it's not like I'm on a schedule," mutter Frisk, reaching for Lesser Dog again. But they saw that instead of him raising up an inch or two for his head to meet their hand, he stretched his neck about four inches. After petting him, the dog's neck did not retract to its normal length. "Good doggy," Frisk repeated, one part declaration, one part question. But despite the admittedly frightening moments when the impossibly long-necked mass of metal and fur would jump at them, Frisk wanted to keep petting them. Even though they had to jump to reach him, even when Lesser Dog himself seemed to question this choice, they wanted to continue petting this fluffy little brave soldier. On and on it went until they could barely hear his excited barking. What if he ended up hitting his head on the roof of this impossibly large cavern? How would he live his life? Did they break him? Frisk finally began to question their choice, too.

"Um, good dog," they shouted. "Go play!" They turned and ran, their feet activating the option to have mercy and let Lesser Dog go free before they continued on their way. When Frisk's voice finally reached his ears, he smiled even larger at the idea. Turning his head to the side until his neck popped, a loud series of rapid clicks could be heard as the length of his neck was quickly reduced. The impact of his head returning to its normal position knocked him onto the snow with a surprised yelp. The shock only lasted a moment as he ran off to try to create a snow sculpture which encapsulated the euphoric rapture of having a neck which could slip the surly bonds of earth and kiss the face of dog.


End file.
